


Birthing a Dawn to This Endless Night

by jusrecht



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-11
Updated: 2011-11-11
Packaged: 2017-10-25 22:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/275758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jusrecht/pseuds/jusrecht
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A plight sets a common ground. (SPOILERS for episode 7 season 2)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthing a Dawn to This Endless Night

**Author's Note:**

> Title came from the song ‘Lies’ by Evanescence.

“Thank you.”

Edith turned around in surprise. The echoes of Sybil’s gentle sobs in her ears dimmed, and an ocean of silence reigned in its place, the spreading hush of a house at rest. Mary stood before Sybil’s door with her back tense and erect, ever the proud first daughter of the family; it was the sight of her lips, pressed together into a thin, rebellious line, which convinced Edith that she had not misheard.

“What I mean is,” Mary picked up her abandoned thread when Edith only continued to stare at her, “I’m glad that you could drive. I know I said many unkind words when you first decided to learn, but it has proved to be more than useful, especially tonight. This would have been a disaster if Papa and Mama had found out. And Sybil, she would have been ruined.”

“She is my sister too,” Edith said the first thing which flitted across her mind.

“Yes, of course.” Mary nodded, always quick to rectify her misstep. Another silence slinked in, not as wrought with tension. Then a faraway look came to her eyes and Edith watched, in amazement, as the woman at whom she had always pointed her sword disappeared, replaced by a stranger she might have met in the past, once upon a time.

“They do love each other, don’t they?”

Moments passed before Edith could find her voice again. “I think so,” she murmured, carried afloat by the same waves which lent a touch of pensive wonder to Mary’s undertone. “I hope he will come for her one day,” she added, slightly defiant.

“We shall see,” Mary replied coolly, a trace of her usual imperiousness returning. It should have riled her—as it had never failed to for the last twenty years—but this time, Edith felt an entirely different caress; for in her mind, she still saw Mary, who was never one to blink in the face of a crisis; Mary, who had come to her and asked with a strained voice if she could look for Sybil with her and Anna; Mary, who had sat by her in taut silence, one hand clenching before her breast as darkness hurtled outside their speeding car.

Mary, who always tried to look braver, haughtier, _crueller_ , than she ever really was.

“Well then,” Mary spoke again, a trifle too hasty despite the confident jut of her chin, “good night.”

“Good night,” Edith automatically echoed. She would have said naught else, too engrossed still in the novelty, in the strangeness of this exchange, had it not been for the sight of Mary’s back, the loneliness of unrequited love echoed by the arrogant set of her shoulders.

“And you’re welcome,” she called out, just as her sister reached the end of the hallway.

Mary halted, a sharp, sudden falter in her steps; the same surprise turned her head and even from that distance, Edith could see how completely it shed her mask. Mary hesitated, but a responding smile had touched her lips before she could stem its spread. She nodded, the smallest tilt of her proud head, and then disappeared round the corner.

It was not until she was safe in the privacy of her own bedroom that Edith realised, this was the first time in a very long time that she had thought of Mary as a sister.

That night, she dreamed of her childhood, a simpler, kinder, happier time—and dared to hope.

 **  
_End  
_   
**


End file.
